No longer with us
by Dralion97
Summary: A few snippets of how I thought John would blog after the 'death' of Sherlock. There isn't much as this was an assignment for school. Contains 3 blog entries of John slowly falling apart over missing his close friend. He cannot handle the fact that everything Sherlock is slowly disappearing around him.


**I'm aware a LOT of people will probably hate me for this small amount of horrible words. I apologize greatly but I just had to do it ^^. I hope you enjoy in some sense.**

I still don't know why it happened. Sherlock was a good man and nothing seemed to faze him. Not majorly anyway. But that one day, Moriarty just got under his skin. Whether it was because of what was going on or the 'games' Moriarty was playing, Sherlock was getting desperate. Now, Sherlock wasn't horrible. He cared about others. That was shown when Moriarty put that young boy's life in danger. Sherlock grew frantic, searching desperately for the one out of place piece. Sherlock wasn't bad or mean, he just had his own way of dealing with people. I could guarantee that Sherlock would not be happy if he found Mrs Hudson's or my body lying around. Sherlock cared about us, I know that. But his voice over the phone that day….it just didn't sound right. He said the call was his 'letter or something. He said goodbye. That was the last thing he said. I remember looking up at him on top of that dangerous ledge, so very close to falling. All it needed was slight momentum. Then, it'd be all over. Trying to talk Sherlock out of it…was useless. I should have known that much. Even as I ran towards where he was falling, there was nothing I could do. I was a doctor, not a miracle worker. Oh how I wish I was. Seeing him lying there, broken and void of life, was the hardest and most painful thing I had ever gone through. Even the war doesn't amount to how bad that was. Knowing my flat mate…my friend…was gone and wasn't coming back. Knowing that I would no longer hear him moving around, muttering to himself about the most recent case. Not seeing those experiments he's conducting. All factors that will prove to me that Sherlock isn't there….that he won't ever be there.

_5 days ago_

* * *

I finally got around to cleaning out all of Sherlock's experiments. It was extremely hard to do and I had to ask for a bit of help. I'm over how gross it is finding some of the stuff Sherlock creates, but knowing that this was something he enjoyed and that it's a memory of him…I couldn't do it. But it was taking up space and without someone to maintain them, they were starting to fail and cause a few problems. The flat already feels different. Not just because of Sherlock not being here, but because slowly and surely, everything that remains of him is disappearing. Vanishing alongside his body, his witty comments and his excitement. I don't understand completely why he's left such this emptiness inside me. He was a friend…someone I hadn't known for a large amount of time. But, everything we did…all those crimes we solved was enough for me to become attached to him in some sense. He brought meaning and adventure to my life. He changed my life and stopped me from being lonely. I owe him a lot and I can never thank him enough for that. And there's just one last thing…to him.

_Sherlock, please, just show us one last miracle. Don't be dead, okay. For the others? For Mrs Hudson? For me?_

_3 days ago_

* * *

There's not much of Sherlock left in the flat anymore. Mrs Hudson got me to clean out anything of his that I'm not likely to use. She said it would just bring back too many painful memories if I kept them around the flat with me. Maybe she's right…but either way I couldn't throw it all away. I put it in storage, on the off chance Sherlock comes home and needs it. I know it sounds stupid….but he's got to come back. He can't just leave us like this. I never really realised just how much of Sherlock's stuff made up the flat. It's so empty without it all cluttered in piles everywhere. I don't like it. It doesn't feel like home anymore….no, it stopped feeling like home when Sherlock didn't come back to it. Now it's just a flat I return to each night. A place where I stay for lack of staying anywhere else. That's all it is. Nothing more. Everything that made it a home is gone. I have hopes that it'll come back….but for now its empty. Just like me. I'm back to the boring war veteran I was before I met that crazy man who changed me. That sociopath who was absolutely fantastic. The only consulting detective in the world, to this day. There is only two other men who can rival him, one of which caused his 'death'. Sherlock was an amazing man and my friend. There is nothing anyone could say or do which would change my opinion of him. I'll wait….until the very end I will wait for the day when Sherlock comes back. When he walks through that door talking excitedly about a new case and getting me to do some absurd task. Until that day, I'll wait for him. Because Sherlock will be back. I believe he will.

_1 day ago_

* * *

_No more posts_

**Please let me know if I did okay! I know they're small, but I don't think John would be in the best frame of mind when dealing with Sherlock's death**


End file.
